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PS: I couldn't find a picture that fitted the image of Scott, so I had to resort to anime, cos' who doesn't love sexy anime men?😏 I present to you Scott at the top... Lol

How had Kylon known where I was the night of the dance? Moreover, what had he even been doing there in the first place? Kylon didn't go to dances, or at least, he didn't go to those at school. He did go to parties, however. But how had he known I was in the bathroom with Josh? I doubt anyone could have heard me screaming over the loud music. So what, then?

Maybe he saw me leaving the hall with Josh, I thought, and he followed me.

Looking at it like that, it seemed plausible. Though why didn't he tell me before he left? Why had he been at the dance?

I groaned and gripped my hair at the roots; it was oily between my fingers. I needed a shower ASAP. I glanced at the bathroom door. Surely there was a shower in it. I peered down at myself wistfully, noting my wrinkled clothes. It was uncomfortable, and I pulled my nose.

Moving before I could change my mind, I rushed to the bathroom. The bathroom was spotless. Normal, to my relief. I didn't know what I'd been expecting–a gothic miscreation with some peculiar device supposed to be an ultra modern toilet, or a special magic toothbrush floating in the air. No, just an ordinary bathroom, with pearly white tiles constituting the floor and walls. The tiles were made of white stone I'd never seen before. Maybe it was marble.

Expensive.

Toiletries along with a fresh towel rested on the long counter made of that same white stone, and there was a big shower right across from it. There were no lights on the ceiling or walls that I could see, but the room was bright even though there were no windows. Despite how bathrooms tended to be cold, it was strangely balmy. Welcoming. Perhaps they'd suspected that I would shower and turned on some hidden underfloor heating system.

I eyed the towel and toiletries skeptically, shrugged, and then grabbed them. I started the shower. When the water was warm, I climbed out of my dirty clothes as fast as possible and dove into the shower. The warm water scalded my skin, but it was a nice burn, and I sighed in contentment as I let the water wash off the grime. Then I started scrubbing. Once my body was clean, I just let the water flow over my body, enjoying the ritual of equanimity where I was able to clear my thoughts.

I was a Hybrid.

I mouthed the word to test it, to hear it in my own voice. It was strange; it felt unfitting to call myself that. The term alluded to an outcast, a stranger surrounded by supernatural freaks. Except... I was going to be the weird one. I was going to be the stupid outlier that stood out. To them, I was the freak. I mean, how many Hybrids were on Atlantis? How many were there even in existence? Was I the only one on Atlantis?

Great.

But hadn't I wished to be alone a few days ago? How many times had I craved a little privacy away from Natasha's clique? I shook my head in disbelief. Right now, that kind of life seemed so easy and normal. Now I was alone. Well, not exactly, because someone–Brooke–had apparently agreed to take care of me. But would they like me? Would they find me strange? I had no way of knowing how these people, these creatures, were going to react. Perhaps I was overthinking things.

It was disturbing that I was being so rational. In less than three hours, my life had inexorably altered into a confounding state of doubt and ambiguity. Why wasn't I screaming yet? Surely I was suffering some form of psychosis!

Maybe it's because, deep down, you've always known that you were different, something murmured in my mind. Maybe my inner demon. Who knew?

With a jerk, I stopped the water and angrily reached for my towel, wrapping it tightly around me. I quickly dried myself, and while I was drying my hair with the damp towel, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Since I was seeing the world with new eyes, I expected some sort of change, so it was quite a shock to see nothing awry.

I was still me.

Still that girl with dark hair, still that sister with blue eyes flecked with green, still that Alex plagued by a stubborn attitude.

I surprised myself when I smiled a little at my reflection. Inside the mirror, I saw proof that everything was going to be okay, that there was no scar–figuratively speaking–on me that Josh might have branded.

My smile broadened, and I could see why Kylon called me irritating, even if he was joking. There was a mischievous glint in my eyes, even though they were swollen from tears. It seemed ridiculously vain of me, but I liked my eyes. They weren't dull, and I felt that they expressed an inner strength that I sometimes lacked in times of dejection. Perhaps it had to do with Kylon telling me that he found it hard to lie in my face when I was looking at him. It gave me a secret thrill to fluster my carefree brother.

I wrapped the towel around me again and stared lamentably at my old clothes. Was I going to be forced to wear them again? I picked up the dirty clothes and went out of the bathroom, checking beforehand to make sure the bedroom was still deserted.

There, on the bed, almost beckoning me, rested a neatly folded pair of clothes. I picked up the fresh clothes, discovering a rather priceless pair of Levi jeans, a pale blue blouse, and clean underwear. I silently thanked the anonymous person for their consideration.

I quickly learned that the clothes fit just about perfectly, and I savoured the scent that always clung to new clothes. With a quick search under the bed, I found the pumps I'd worn at the dance. I continued to towel-dry my hair as I decided to take a peek through the door and see what I was supposed to do next while I waited. Apparently go to school, of all things. It shouldn't have been so surprising that even supernatural freaks needed an education with the way the economy was going.

It turned out that the bedroom's door led to a short corridor, and beyond that, there seemed to be a living room. I wondered whose house this was. Anastacia's?

"Are you ready?"

I gasped, the hand still drying my hair dropping the soggy towel with a muffled thump. I quickly made to pick it up, but an elegant hand reached out and swiped it off the floor for me, holding it out to me while the person chuckled. I'd been so engrossed with the overly ornate hallway that I hadn't even noticed a tall figure leaning against the wall next to the door. He somehow blended in with the few shadows in the hallway.

Now that I was focusing on him, I could see that he had long black hair and staggering porcelain blue eyes. He was one of those men with a sharp, yet attractive square jaw. He was wearing black jeans and a white button-up shirt, but one way or another, he made black and white look good.

He grinned at me when I hesitantly took the towel from him.

"Didn't mean to startle you. I am Scott, and I am here to transfer you at the Queen's behest."

"Queen?" I blurted, my eyes widening, "What Queen?" Oh hell, this can't be good...

Scott managed a combination between an elevated eyebrow and a frown, which made him look strangely charming. "You do not know, I see. It is understandable that Kylon was unable to delve into minor details." His eyes narrowed a fraction before he continued. "As with other countries, Atlantis requires a ruler. That is Queen Anastacia, and she rules over the Athlan race."

I stared at him, dumbfounded, trying to assure myself that the two puzzle pieces couldn't possibly fit. Anastacia... Queen Anastacia. Hell, was it supposed to be Queen Stacia? I didn't know anymore!

"So, Anastacia... she is the queen?"

He smiled. "The one and only. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for her."

Oh, great. Now I have to thank her too? Isn't calling her by her nickname enough?

I was strangely hung up on that.

I laughed at myself as I withdrew into the bedroom, Scott following me. What was it with nicknames that twisted my panties so much? Of course, I wanted to prove a point to Kylon, but on second thought, it was kind of stupid and childish.

A queen... I'd been in the same room as a queen. The queen of Atlantis, the queen of Athlans. And I'd talked to her without ceremony, and she even considered me a "friend." How weird was my life?

"So, is this her house, or does she live in some castle?" I asked as I rolled my dirty clothes into a ball and put it on the bed, following Scott out of the room. I took one last look at the beautiful room before he closed the door behind us.

"Yes and no. She lives in a palace, and you are inside it right now."

We exited the corridor, and I saw I'd been right. We were now standing in a spacious living room. I noted the black marble of the floor with interest as I scanned my surroundings. The walls were covered with wallpaper like in the bedroom, only they were a soft azure colour. Three luxurious sofas were positioned in the middle of the room facing each other, a wide screen television propped against the wall between them. A hearty fireplace was set up in the corner on the right-hand side of the television, the warm crackling sounds of a fire creating a cosy ambience, its flames reflecting on the clear marble floor.

I stopped to take it all in, but no matter how sumptuous the apartment looked, I couldn't help but doubt.

"This doesn't look like a palace," I observed critically, still admiring the sight. A large window was situated on the far wall, light streaming in, leaving a sunlit square on the floor. The window seat was covered with a rich multitude of pillows.

Scott walked towards the window, and I followed him. I was already gaping, but he pointed anyway and said, "No, but that does."

I'd seen many palaces and castles in my life on television, but that was nothing compared to this. This palace wasn't an ordinary one; this palace was constructed out of cherry coloured stone–marble, honest-to-goodness marble! This side of the palace was facing east, allowing the sunlight to illuminate hints of amber within the walls, staining the courtyard with intense colours. Almost as if the light was penetrating amber glass, producing a spectrum of warm colours.

A big empty space, the courtyard was bordered by robust oak trees, their leaves gleaming like polished emeralds. Beyond that, hidden within the dark shadows of the oaks, was a fence wall. The grass was even and fresh. A dazzling fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard. I couldn't see much, only that it was black and tall, water spouting occasionally into the air. An explosion of colour surrounded the fountain a few metres from it.

We were about three stories high from the ground, and even from here, I could smell roses, with a tinge of another pleasant aroma I couldn't identify. It was a magnificent scene; it reminded me of a glistening fairytale castle where just about anything was possible in the world. I felt my negative emotions ebb away.

Without another word, Scott straightened and gestured for me to follow him. We walked through a kitchen with a layout that, like the bathroom, consisted of white stone. Scott opened the door and beckoned me to exit first. This led to yet another corridor, but this time, it was large and wide. Thick double doors lined the hall between intervals of large oil paintings. As we passed them, I studied the people portrayed by precise, skillful hands, noting how similar most of the people looked. Some had the same eyebrows, others had identical green eyes, and some had their chins stuck up in a manner that strangely reminded me of Natasha.

"Where's the lighting?" I asked as I looked at my surroundings, searching for the source of light. There was none, not even a window, yet I could see clearly as if there were one.

Scott stopped at the last door to the right. The door was unlike the others which were of dark chestnut wood. I realised that this one was placed within an archway and was a little bigger than the others. Scott opened it without responding, and I almost–almost–choked when I saw an elevator situated behind the door, looking like one of those Art Deco elevators from upscale hotels. I temporarily forgot my previous question.

The elevator doors depicted two life-sized figures facing away from each other. One was a woman with her hands cupped in the air as if she was trying to catch something; the other was a man looking down at the ground, his hand extended but closed. The man should have looked angry, but what looked to be a fist appeared more like he was holding something. Something fragile and dear.

I broke out of my thoughts when Scott moved and pressed the button to go down. The doors slid open, separating the man and woman etched within them. It was a strangely sad sight, as if the couple had been forcefully torn apart. Stepping inside the golden interior, we waited as the doors slid shut, and my curiosity rekindled.

"Who are you, really?"

When he raised an eyebrow at me quizzically, I rushed to explain. "I mean, I know you're Scott"–Scott who?–"but do you work for the queen or something?"

I couldn't think to call Anastacia by her name anymore, it didn't feel right. Well, it didn't feel right to not call her the queen around Scott. He crossed his arms over his chest as he contemplated, his jaw moving as if he was choosing his words very carefully.

Then, slowly, he said, "Well, you can say that a part of your words is true, though not in the way you're thinking. Let's just say I'm doing Queen Anastacia a special favour, on account of other circumstances."

"Other circumstances?"

He shot me an indifferent glance, but his tone was still polite. "Yes, political affairs."

At the word "political," I was immediately put off and dropped the topic. Since I wasn't asking questions, he remained silent, and I got the sense that he was one of those quiet somebodies. The interesting caste of introverts. I fretted with the hem of my blouse in the awkward silence. Or, at least, it was awkward for me. I wasn't used to being around reticent people.

I brooded over what he said–about him working partly for the queen. Although politics weren't my thing, I still wanted to know why he was here. He seemed reluctant to divulge anything of that nature, however, and I guess I respected that. Everyone hoarded a box of secrets, though to be honest, most of my skeletons had been unearthed by my brother. It was impossible to hide anything from Kylon since he was so overprotective.

Probably why I wasn't too worried about being in a foreign place; Kylon would never leave me somewhere potentially dangerous.

The elevator made a soft noise, and the doors glided open to reveal yet another corridor leading in both directions. Scott guided me to the left, and we walked a few steps, abruptly turning right. It seemed that in this part of the palace, there were more windows, sunlight flooding in and reflecting off the cherry red stone walls. The air was imbued with a soft amber glow.

"I wasn't sure what to think when Kylon said that someone–I'm assuming you–was going to take me to school."

He didn't look at me, taking another right hall. "Why?"

I felt a little flustered by the question but answered as evenly as possible. "Because... I don't know. I guess I never imagined a part-god having to go to school." I tried to shrug nonchalantly, feeling more than a little embarrassed. Of all things, demigods–Athlans, I reminded myself– going to school was probably the last thing I'd been expecting. I wasn't sure whether it was a subject to look forward to.

Scott chuckled softly. "Every being needs to learn, Alexandra. Education is as much of a resource in our lives as all our other capabilities. And we need both to do the other. But I assure you, our school systems are brilliant in comparison to the outside world."

Mentioning the outside world–undoubtedly still my world– made me feel so isolated from everything that was considered normal, and it felt almost comforting. Surprise, surprise. Maybe I could start over. Maybe that was the whole purpose of my being here. To forget my old mistakes and to look forward to new ones.

I was so absorbed with my newfound philosophy that it wasn't until a small, cool gust lifted my almost dry hair that I grasped we were now outside. We stood in the doorway, and Scott stepped aside, appreciating my desire to get a full view of the palace. I descended the stone steps, vaguely realising that this was the parking lot. I sucked in a sharp breath and had to strain my neck backwards to take in the red palace. This side was plunged in shadow, but I knew that it would glisten just as remarkably in the sun as the one facing the east. The palace consisted of four stories with gleaming windows, some of which were flanked by stone pillars that stood on railed balconies, overhanging canopies perched on top of them.

"Marble." I gave a jolt of surprise when Scott spoke next to me. How did he sneak up like that?

My eyes widened. "You mean..." I trailed off, at a loss for words. I was still marvelling the structure. It was unlike anything I'd seen before. In that case, I didn't think anyone human had laid an eye on something like this. The otherworldly architecture wasn't something that existed in human history. No, this was the art of an obscure, yet established civilisation.

Scott concluded my perplexed thoughts. "This whole palace–walls, floors, if not some furniture too–is carved out of Atlantis' most precious marble, its only supplied wealth. Three-quarters of Atlantis' infrastructure was built with the valued limestone. It is found exclusively on this island."

I pondered over this information, deciding at length that he was right. It certainly seemed one of a kind, even though I knew zilch about stones. I caught sight of him from the corner of my eye; he was smiling slightly, evidently admiring the building in front of him.

I couldn't keep myself from admiring him. He truly was handsome, though I'd learned the hard way that a pretty face could easily hide a faithless bastard. "How late does this school start, anyway?" I asked to distract myself.

He caught my glance, and I quickly turned my gaze to my shoes, studying them with unrewarding interest.

"It's not exactly a school. In this case, it's called an academy. It starts at ten." He led me across the lot. I crossed my arms and followed reluctantly, not paying attention to where I was going.

We came across a car, and he held the passenger door open for me. The door closed softly behind me. In a second, he was in the driver's seat, starting the car. Not bothering to fasten my seatbelt, I twisted around in the leather seat to catch a last glance of the palace while he drove. I didn't see it, but we must have stopped for a few seconds at a gate before driving on. Through the back window, I could see black iron gates closing with a final jerk, and with that, the palace began to shrink.

As the distance stretched and the road curved, I could see the side of the palace, and the sunlight caught and reflected on the marble walls. Right there and then, it looked like a glass palace, dazzling and fragile. A precious entity that could be crushed by a giant fist without difficulty, but in spite of that, it still existed as a permanent fixture of Atlantis. I imagined seeing through the marble into the palace.

I sighed and fell back into my seat, finally grappling for the seat belt.

"Overwhelmed?" Scott asked with the first grin I'd seen on him, sounding, at that very moment, very much like Kylon.

My mouth pulled up in a tiny smile, but all traces of bitterness were gone. "You have no idea."

When you think of mythical beings going to school, what do you imagine? Who is this mysterious handsome Scott? Did any of you guess who Anastachia is?

What drama awaits Alex next?

Stick around for the next chapter to find out, and vote and comment if you liked the chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far!